Twenty Minutes? Look Dude, I’m Not Amazon Prime

Let’s be clear — you wouldn’t expect Beyoncé to roll out of bed and perform in 20 minutes, would you? Exactly. Same energy here.

I’m not a vending machine where you insert a text and out pops a girl. I’m a luxury experience. That means I need time — time to set the mood, time to make sure my space feels like heaven, and time to transform from “running errands” me into “treat-you-like-royalty” me.

Twenty minutes? That’s enough time for me to throw my hair in a messy bun, light one lonely candle, and hope the sheets are clean.

Two hours? That’s enough time for me to create magic — soft lighting, the perfect playlist, a room that smells like you’ve just walked into a spa on a cloud.

And here’s a little warning: when you book me, you’re not just getting a session. You’re getting me — my energy, my charm, my way of making you wonder how you ever survived without me. It’s an experience that sticks with you. (Side effects may include bliss, daydreaming, and plotting your next visit before you’ve even left.)

So no, dude. I can’t “squeeze you in real quick.” I’m not that kind of girl. Give me the two hours’ notice, and I’ll give you something worth rearranging your whole week for.

Because I’m not here to be fast.

I’m here to be unforgettable.